Indian Ayuba’s mother’s case revisited

It was four years ago that Esther Amonja’s story was first told; that love story between mother and child that stole the hearts of many; that story that changed the status of her daughter who became The Nation girl by chance and the goodwill of Nigerians. But four years after, her mother’s case has remained the same. Perhaps bemused by this fact, feeling that the season of Valentine is beyond empty ‘kisses’ and ‘hugs’, this reporter has taken another bold step.

Her lookalike invokes emotion

IT was another market day in a rustic community at Wamba Local Government Area, Nasarawa State. Under the baking July sun, sellers and buyers from near and far scampered about. Sellers called out to prospective buyers with raised voices, trying hard to gain their attention. Buyers haggled the prices of goods with sellers, hoping to get a good deal.

Amid much trading activities and tick crowd, one woman stood out with her wares. But hers was not the regular wares. It’s a unique one, consisting of worn out and torn clothes, empty bottles, nylon bags and more! What you may readily discard as trash were her priced ‘possession’. And an open shed in that market was her home.

That was a typical scene four years ago when this reporter first met the woman, Esther Amonja Ayuba, who, holds dear to heart her most treasured possession, her daughter, Indian. And that was the life she had lived for years with her child (who was staying with her father) and had kept an eagle eye on her, “because I do not want her to stray beyond my reach”, the little girl had said.

And so for years, their love story became a ‘wonder’ to some and a ‘secret inspiration’ to others. That love caught the spotlight when The Nation on Saturday published their story on August 22, 2009. It stole the hearts of many, impacted positively on her daughter’s education and bettered the girl’s life – a feat that affected her mental state but only for a while.

Mama Indian then returned to the family’s house from the market that served as her home for years, insisting that she would stay there, as she put it, “to make sure Indian is not sent into marriage before her time”.

Her statement came about because Indian had been away from home in school after her change of fortune. Esther, missing her daughter’s absence, kept going home to inquire about her whereabouts. Perhaps, in a bid to pacify her, she was told that the girl had been given out in marriage.

However, when Indian returned from school, she went lto her mother at the market. The woman literally detained her, querying her why she allowed herself to be given out in marriage. And so she followed her daughter home, saying she would stay there.

That was in 2010, a year after their story was first published. Evidently, her mental wellbeing seems to be connected to that of her child. And as such psychiatrists and psychologists noted that a quick medical treatment is necessary to restore her mentally. They were of the view that her case is not hopeless.

However, many, who had followed the story then had thought that it was only a matter of time before she returned to the streets because, according to them, a myth holds that a mad person who has left home and lived in the market place is a somewhat hopeless case.

Some others asked then: “What if the reverse was the case as that of Esther, what becomes of the person?” Psychiatrists had waved such thoughts away as “nonsensical”, saying “Esther’s case is not peculiar but needs urgent medical attention”.

According to a Consultant Psychiatrist with the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), Ikeja, Dr. Bola Ola, Esther is fortunate to have a child with such an enduring love, noting that although presumptuously moved by her child’s new found fortune, she had returned home, her mental state is still the same.

He raised the fear that if a quick medical intervention was not done, her case might grow worse. Many observed that her daughter’s success story would not be complete without impacting on her health.

“All that she needs is one experienced psychiatrist to examine her for at least a week: morning, afternoon, evening and night as the case may be,” it was said. Hence, Dr. Ola, an experienced and internationally-acclaimed psychiatrist, said he was willing to examine and diagnose her state so as to commence treatment – all for free. He advised that treating her at the community where she had probably been stigmatised would play a vital role in her recovery. If she eventually recovers, he said, it would go a long way to affect people’s negative perception of the illness.

Dr. Ola said he would subsequently train a health worker in the local health centre on how to administer treatment.

On that account, The Nation went in search of a health worker and found John Umar, who was at the time the Chief Nurse at the Primary Health Care Centre, Chessu. To show he was acquainted with Esther’s case, he said: “She is like a sister to me. We all know about her sickness and what your paper has done for her daughter. Both of them are inseparable: seeing Indian seems to make her happy. As far as I know, medically, her sickness was seasonal before it got out of control and has been like this for a very long time. In those days, you would find her sitting alone; and she used to pack her clothes in my premises. Unlike most sick people, she is not aggressive or troublesome; she is respectful.”

And on the request of caring for Esther, he had said then: “I can help administer the drugs and monitor her if I am taught what to do and if the drugs are made available. And if I am not here, I will brief my colleague on it.”

Umar has since left and Mrs Esther Usman Muzha, who worked with him for years before he left, has now taken over from him. On one of such reconciliation journeys to the place, this reporter met Mrs Muzha and raised the issue with her. “I am here because of Esther, Indian’s mother…” the reporter said.

“I am aware of her case. I was rightly briefed by Mr. Umah and we have been waiting to receive the visitors and give our service, that is why we are here,” Mrs Muzha said.

At that time, three years ago, when Dr. Ola had signified interest to observe and diagnose her case for possible treatment, what it would take to bring the psychiatrist to the place alone was to cost about N300,000. This includes the cost of transportation, accommodation, drugs, series of tests and sundry expenses.

A clarion call was made concerning her case, yet nothing happened. The help of some people was sought, but they responded, thus: “There are a thousand and one Esthers scattered all over the place. Why concentrate on one person?”

Such statements were condemned by some observers, naming it “insensibility”.

“What about the government or corporate bodies or groups, clubs and so on, why don’t they take the case up as their CSR?” Many had asked.

Three years after Mama Indian’s dramatic return to her family abode, her mental state has still not changed. It has become exactly as the doctor had predicted. Although the family has taken her to local homes where such ailments are treated, still no improvement has been recorded. And even though her family members often say ‘she is improving’, she now wanders between her home and the places known to only her. She sometimes goes far from home to the village of the late father of her child, Indian. At other times, she goes further away, only to return the day. That has been her routine.

Meeting Mama Indian again brought tears to the eyes. On a self-imposed journey of reconciliation, the reporter was reminded that it is not yet Uhuru for the woman. What further increased the spark of compassion was the meeting of Mama Indian’s “lookalike”, as she is often called. Jumai, Mama Indian’s younger sister, who is happily married with kids, depicts how Esther would have looked like if she were not sick or has fully recovered. “Before her sickness, they say we resembled. People used to call us twins. They sometimes mistook me for her and her for me and we wore the same clothes. But she is my elder sister o. I know she will become well again. She sometimes comes to visit me in my place,” her younger sister said in Hausa.

Her statement brought tears to the eyes of those listening, including the interpreter, who quickly gathered herself together winked his back for fear of being labelled a weakling.

That coincidental meeting made this reporter more determined than ever to bring Mama Indian’s case to the public space again with hope that good-spirited individuals or organisations will look her way.

And what better time to do so than now, the season and month of love. Beyond just telling her story, this reporter made up her mind to put her money where her mouth is, ever so determined to revive and spearhead the campaign of Mama Indian’s treatment and rehabilitation again. She is donating her February salary, hoping that perhaps someone who will have compassion and take up the challenge. Will it be you, she asks?